Changes
by Ola Writes
Summary: "Life is like a piano. The white keys represent happiness and the black keys show sadness. But as you go through life's journey, remember that the balck keys also create music." - Unknown. Niall Horan Fanfiction
1. Story Synopsis

Ashtyn (aka. Miss Ivory Keys) has been playing piano since she could remember and she has always dreamed of playing for the World Instrumental Orchestra in New York. Unfortunately that dream has yet to come true. Her life has always been the same and she feels comfortable that way. However, when her brother moves away to University in New York, everything changes and she is not ready for the things that this change brings along with it. She meets Niall, a boy who does not want to be in her music class but changes his mind when he becomes drawn to know her better. Together, they help better one another along a windy road of changes that neither are prepared for and to overcome obstacles along that path. Will the duo continue to be good friends and let the fear of change stop them from living or will they fall in love?

"Life is like a piano. The white keys represent happiness and the black keys show sadness. But as you go through life's journey, remember that the balck keys also create music." - Unknown.


	2. Prologue

Ashtyn's Pov.

I look around Jacob's apartment for one of the last times, taking in the surroundings that he will be calling home for his first semester at University, and for the first time, he will be living away from home. From me.

My brother hasalways been my best friend, my buddy. Since I was little, and since I could start recalling memories, Jacob has always been there for me, even when he was unable to be. He's like my rock. And now he's in a different country, almost a twelve or so more hour drive away.

When I first found out that he was leaving, I was ecstatic because I have always wanted to go to New York for the World Instrumental Orchestra since I was younger, but we were never able to because my parents didn't want to travel for it, and because they thought it would be too difficult to travel with four of us kids and it was too costly. Not just travel wise, but too expensive to just the competition.

My thoughts are brought back to reality when Jacob and my parents enter the living room. My little twin sisters are at Grandma's back home, so it's just me and mom and dad who've helped Jacob move in.

I sigh and move away from the window where I once was.

The worry in mom's voice comes out strong, no matter how hard she tries to disguise it. "You sure you're going to be okay? Are your appliances in working order? And your water and electricity? What about food? Do you have enough food in your fridge? Do you have all the things you need? Your medicine? Hon, did I forget something? I'm sure I forgot something!"

Dad tries desperately to calm her down, but she goes off, pacing around, checking everything in the apartment once more.

"Mom…Mom! It's okay! Everything is perfectly fine, there's nothing wrong. Please calm down, please?" Jacob says desperately, his usual deep voice rising slightly. He hates seeing Mom act like this. We all do.

"Okay, okay. I'm sorry…you know how I get when things are out of order. I love you Jacob. We just want the best for you. Now please take good care of yourself—mind your health, your studies and your safety. Don't you dare think about getting drunk or taking drugs. I expect you to be responsible, but do have a little fun. Alright?" Mom says to him, holding onto him tightly before letting go of her firstborn. My dad moves towards him and gives him a hug before saying something to him.

Then Dad goes over to Mom and puts an arm around her comforting her while I go and give Jacob a hug.

I don't say a word as his arms envelope me.

"Things are different…there's change…"I state after a moment into his shoulder. There's gloom in my voice.

He sighs and inhales once more before responding, "Change is good…different is good…this year will be a good different, Ash."

I pull away and shrug on my coat before reaching for my necklace. Jacob sees this and smiles knowingly.

"I'll miss you guys…but I'll Skype you every day…'specially you Ashtyn," Jacob says to me and mom and dad.

We say our goodbyes and then we leave Jacob on his own to live here. On our drive home, I sit in the back seat beside the window, watching the buildings pass by.

On the way out of the city, we pass by Carnegie Hall and I think about the Royal Conservatory. My dream is to play there with their ensemble. As move further and further away from Jacob and New York, I think about things being different and what he said…this year would be a good different.

I don't know if I'm ready for change…not yet, that is for sure.


	3. Chapter 1

Niall's Pov.

I am honestly not looking forward to grade eleven. Mum went behind my back and put music as my number one elective. I don't want music! That was supposed to be a secret; something for me to do to let off steam when I'm stressed, not an actual course that'll go towards my university application for a career I'm still unsure about.

Mum and Dad had to come upstairs that day when they got home, didn't they? I was upstairs in my room slamming my fingers down the strings and pickup on various notes, letting the scrambled tunes mimic the feelings and thoughts swarming around my head.

My girlfriend of two years, Brianne, and I broke up. Or preferably, I sort of broke up with her. I couldn't take her craziness. But maybe I was the crazy one since I separated myself from her and she is any guy's dream girl. She was too perfect, if that's even possible. She was mean sometimes and I found that I never really got space in our relationship. I don't even know why I dated her in the first place, 'specially for how long too; I think it was because my mates all were dating last semester. Even though at the back of my mind I still miss her. But I don't like dwelling on her, so I don't try to think of her part in my liking of guitar playing. I had so much anger towards our relationship and relief mixed together after she called me every name in the book that I had to clear my mind, by my guitar. And amidst my raging mind I forgot to lock my bedroom door, thus my parents found me playing the strings and they were amazed by this. I have to say, that if I found my son with a guitar I never knew he had, I would've been surprised. Which they were. My dad was extremely ecstatic along with my mom, both folk musicians (something that none of my friends know), and began talking about how well my music was and how they were going to fit me into their band which includes my older brother, and bring back the Brady Bunch family band—even though to me it was just a bunch of random notes.

And now here I am, in this music class that my parents (mostly my mom 'cause she does all the planning in this household) enrolled me in so I can get some music scholarship that I don't want. I want to play music for fun, for me, not for anyone or anything else. I guess I'll just have to drag through this first day of class until I can drop by guidance and switch out of that class. I like to make movies, take photos and play around with Photoshop along with playing guitar.

I find a seat in this music class that I'm guessing are here for multiple types of music classes. Mostly this is a class for people who have already taken a music class. Then there's me. The one who's a major musical amateur. I guess this supposed to be a class band.

The music teacher, Mr. Van Goldman stands at the front of this carpeted and crowded multi-level music room, and taps his music baton against the stand filled with various sheet music. The class turns their heads at the sharp rapping. It is like they are trained to respond to him by that sound. I shudder at the weirdness of that.

"Welcome back everyone, I hope you all had a good summer; I was pleased to see so many of you at the summer refresher courses. Let's see, do we have any new instruments to our symphony, or is it the same old band back together—ah yes, we have a new set of strings, Niall, isn't it?" Van Goldman says, looking up and spotting me, the odd one out of the bunch.

"Uh, yes sir," I say, keeping a grasp on my guitar bag with my hand, trying to hold onto reality.

"You are Greg's brother, aren't to the band! You'll be in the back among the rest of the strings section. Alright? Now, I want everyone to turn to the pieces you've all been practicing during the summer. We'll make sure everyone's instruments are tuned; you have five minutes to do so," Van Goldman announces.

When everyone turns their attention to their instruments, I take a seat at the side of the room beside the piano, where the strings play. I notice I'm the only guitarist and there's only one violin, one cello and one single piano. There is a girl I never noticed before who sits at the piano. It's an extravagant piano and with the girl sitting there on the bench, it makes her look smaller and younger than she is.

She's got caramel coloured hair it seems, strands so delicate that they make me think that they are woven out of honey and caramel. Her clothes are much different compared to everyone else's. It's not some fancy Abercrombie & Fitch or Hollister brands like that. She wears these old style pieces, stuff that my mom used to wear back when she was younger. I have to say, the clothes suit her. Her face is blemish free, something that all the other girls want, but I can barely see her full face. She's hiding, hunched over the white ivory keys. All in all, she's very pretty.

"Alright, let's start off with you, Christian. What piece did you work on?" Van Goldman says suddenly when the classroom quiets. He must have done that weird baton tapping trick.

I look over to whom he's directed the question to and I end up hearing him first before I see him. Some saxophonist guy, but his saxophone is much larger than a regular one I've seen before. You'd think that since my parents are musicians I would know much more about instruments, but I've been avoiding that portion of my life for a long time, till now.

While he plays, and the rest of the class, I quietly assemble my electric guitar, plugging it into the amp, pulling the strap across my body for good support.

"Niall, why don't you go next?" Van Goldman says, catching my attention.

I turn away from where I was subconsciously observing that girl on the ivory keys.

"Huh? Uh, I don't have anything prepared, sir, um, I'm an amateur," I reply quietly, a little caught off guard.

"Oh, that is not a problem at all, you'll be a pro in no time at all, faster than the speed of a staccato," Van Goldman says, laughing.

The class laughs. Even Miss Ivory Keys, the piano girl.

I don't get the joke.

"Just play whatever feels right for you, okay? And take as much time as you need," Van Goldman says when his and the class' laughter dies down.

I nod, trying to display confidence. No one has ever heard me play before with the unfortunate exception of my parents, and what I play is just random notes I pulled from thin air. I look down at my guitar that I got at the Thrift store a while back and place my one hand on the neck and fingerboard and one on the body with the strings and the pickup.

My fingers begin the bend at the bones and the strings are played, but for only a second when a loud feed screech blares out from the amp. I wince.

The class flinches and from my peripheral vision, I catch Miss Ivory Keys bring her hands up to her ears to block out the unattractive sound.

"Sorry," I say, my voice slightly quavering.

Van Goldman nods and gestures his hand, indicating for me to try again.

I take a deep breath and start again.

I play some more random notes and as I begin getting more comfortable with my guitar playing in public, riffs just start flying off the strings easily.

In the corner of my eye, I spot Miss Ivory Keys watching me, her eyes a breathtaking autumn colour that I've never seen before. My hand slips on the finger board and screech comes from the amp. She turns her head away, breaking our trance and covers her ears tightly.

I look back around the room and spot Van Goldman nodding with a smile on his face. "Amateur, you say?" he says with a smirk.

Here it comes, the one line that says you're a failure that proves all my theories about music and that will be my one way ticket out of this damn class.

"I believe you don't do yourself justice, Niall was very good. A little rough in some spots, but all in all, really good. I'd say you have a talent. A talent that you should nurture, like everyone else does in this class. You know why there is only one of each instrument in this class?" Van Goldman says.

I take another good look around the room and to my surprise, the string section aren't the only ones with one instrument each.

"No, I do not…but I assume you're going to tell me?" I reply waiting for Van Goldman's answer.

He snorts at my comment. "Everyone in this room was meant to play an instrument. And everyone is different and unique. So why should there be more of an instrument if it needs a sole focus and needs its own spotlight? That's why there are more than one class like this. So that everyone has time to nurture their talent. And for you Niall, time and patience is all you'll need to perfect your ability," Van Goldman says to me and then does his baton trick again. "I'll give you each the notes for the new composition we'll start this semester off with. Go over the notes and circle any bars that you are unsure about. We'll focus on the struggles tomorrow. Good day!" Van Goldman says just as the bell rings.

I spot Miss Ivory Keys dart out of the classroom.

I place my guitar back inside my guitar bag as Van Goldman walks over to me.

"You can leave that here, Niall, and pick it up after school, alright?" he informs me and points to a corner of the room nearby with tall cubby holes meant for guitars with my name printed on a sticker above one of the cubbies. I stand and place my bag in there.

"Here are some note guidelines on where to put your fingers on the guitar to get certain notes and sounds out. I have a feeling you don't know too much about how to play a guitar other than riffs?"

I look up at him in surprise as I take sheets.

"That's alright; it doesn't change what I said earlier, you have a gift. Now get going, you don't want to be late for your other classes."

I nod and leave. But as I make my way out the door, I pass by the piano and find something shiny on the bench. I lean down and pick it up. It must be Miss Ivory Keys'. I glance up at the clock and see that class begins in one minute. I shove the shiny delicate object in my pocket and run down the halls just to make it to class in time.

I look around my Chemistry class and find myself surrounded by my buddies. My friend, the ladies' man in our year, Harry waves me over.

"Hey man, what's up?" he greets me as I find myself a seat beside him at the back of the classroom.

"Ah nothing much. How was your first period?" I ask quietly while we all wait for our teacher, Mr. Frederick.

"Eh, it was alright. A quiet class. But did you hear what happened in Zayn's class?"

"No, what?"

Frederick walks into the classroom and shuts the door, gaining some students' attention while Trevor continues to tell me the story about Zayn's class.

"Hey, what class did you have in first?" he then asks me.

"Uh, spare," I reply quickly. I tend to do this a lot when I don't want to tell my mates something about my personal life.

I turn away and am grateful that Frederick starts talking and Trevor can no longer press any further.

As lunch rolls around, I stop by Guidance to discuss my switching out of Music. Unfortunately, I'm stuck with an after-school appointment, at the earliest. That is pretty good though; normally it takes a few days until you can switch or when you can actually see the Guidance counselor.

I go to my other two classes and try to focus on the lessons until I hear the principal start talking, announcing that it is the end of the day.

I rush out of my English class and down to the Guidance office because I want to get out of that music class as soon as I can.

Reaching the Guidance office, I go over to the secretary and inform her that I am here for the appointment.

"Just a few moments please," she replies and points to some chairs that are coloured a puke-like pink.

I drop my backpack on the floor and sit down, pulling out my iPhone and leaning forward on my knees to see the screen.

I look in my messages application and find many texts from my mates. Passing through them, I see some old texts from Brianne.

I don't get a chance to answer them yet because the door opens up to my Guidance counselor's office.

I expect to find some minor niner asking for guidance in this nightmare of a high school, but instead I find myself watching Miss Ivory Keys leave Patterson's office without a word and out into the hallway without making any eye contact with anyone.

"Niall, come on in. What can I do for you?" Patterson greets me and invites me into her office.

I take a seat in a chair that matches the other pink chairs.

"I would like to switch out of a class please," I say and add politeness to make my case better, as I silence my phone and tuck it into my pocket.

"Alright, let's see, what class are you wanting to switch?" she asks, scanning her computer.

"Uh, music."

"With what?"

"Media arts," I reply.

"Or?"

"Gym?"

"I'm sorry, but you cannot switch out," she replies, looking at me through her glasses, hands clasped, all wise-like.

"What? Why not?" I ask, a bit confused.

"For you to be able to graduate, you must have an art course up to at least grade eleven. It is a requirement for you to even get to grade twelve since your tentative schedule for grade twelve is booked with your maths and sciences and English. As well, the Visual Arts class is filled," she answers.

"Okay, but isn't media arts, you know, an 'art'?"

"Well, yes, however the number of students wishing to take the class is too low to even hold the class. And you've already take gym before. Let's see, how about I put you on a waiting list and if there is an opening in any other art credit class, I will let you know. Any particular reason why you do not want to take this class?" she says.

"I just don't like to play music much, but alright. Thank you Miss Patterson," I reply.

"Don't give up on music class yet, Niall. If you haven't really tried it yet, how do you know you already don't like it?" Patterson asks.

I not barely listening and pick up my backpack, singing it onto my shoulder.

I leave her office fast like Miss Ivory Keys and grumble my way to the music room.

I enter the empty room and pick up my guitar from its new cubby and leave to catch my bus home.

On the bus ride home, I answer the texts from my friends; more questions about classes and plans to hang out on the weekend. I don't mention anything about music class. I don't want them to know that I play guitar. That's something some of my mates frown upon, unless it's rap and has swear words every five seconds. Which in the right mind frame is needed.

Luckily, no one is home and they will not be for another hour or so, so I'll play my guitar and move on to my other homework.

I pull out my guitar from its bag and place it on its stand while I search for the sheet music Van Goldman gave me. They're at the bottom of my backpack all crumpled. I was not expecting to return to them so soon. I set up my guitar and amp and look at the notes and finger positions, mimicking them on the fingerboard and pickup.

I start with a G note. My fingers move. A quaky sound seeps out from the amp. I try it again and again, each note I go over a few times until I feel comfortable with it, then I move on to another note until I feel ready for my real homework—the composition. The melody plays out choppy and uneven, but I get it down twice before I hear the telltale slam of the car door and keys in the front lock.

I put my guitar away once I unplug it from the amp and I hide them away slightly in my closet before moving over to my unorganized desk and begin my Chemistry homework.

Mum enters my bedroom, "How was school Niall? Enjoy music?"

"Oh, yeah, it was okay," I reply, quickly glancing at her.

"Dinner was in the Crockpot today so be ready in twenty minutes, alright?" she says and heads back down the stars to greet our dog, Ink.

I nod and look over my books. There's not really any homework to do and my mind is suddenly flooding with a thought about music class. Miss Ivory Keys didn't have to present today. Why? Everyone had to present, even me, and I did not have anything prepared. So why her? What makes her so special?

The pocket of my pants feels heavy and I remember exactly why. I pull out the necklace of Miss Ivory Keys' that I nearly forgot.

I hold it out and from first glance it looks like some simple silver coloured necklace with a translucent piece of jewelry in a tear drop form. The light from my desk lamp sends a soft glimmer from the center of the drop when I slightly move my hand.

I pull the necklace closer towards my face and peer at it. Inside is a miniature carved sculpture. It looks like a sign of some sort, like the natural note in music. Huh.

Mum calls my name and I almost drop the necklace. I quickly put the necklace in an old watch box in my dresser and go downstairs.


End file.
